Alicen
by RealityEngineer
Summary: Following an Imperial girl named Alicen Solus as she comes to terms with more than just her destiny as Dovahkiin, but many other peculiar twists and turns along the way.


Chapter I

Her head was throbbing as he awoke from unconsciousness. She groaned and reached to rub her aching head, but found her wrists bound.

"Hunh…?" She opened her bright blue eyes, dazzling sunlight blinding her as she hung her head and groaned again.

"You're awake," a man said. She peeked open one eye to find three men, each bound the same as her as the cart they were in rattled along. "We almost thought we'd lost you."

"Is this… why are we…?"

"Tied up and in a cart?" the Nord laughed. "We're prisoners, each trapped for our own reasons."

"Where are we headed?" The Nord looked ahead of them, shaking his head.

"I don't know. But wherever we're headed, Sovngarde surely awaits…" She swallowed hard.

"This is your fault," the Nord next to the first said. "If you two hadn't shown up, I'd be on that horse halfway to Hammerfell by now!"

"Us two?" she asked the first Nord. He shook his head.

"No. Myself and Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak of Windhelm." The name was familiar. She wracked her mind as she glanced at her fellow prisoner. He wasn't just bound, but gagged, a cloth surrounding his mouth. Now she remembered. Ulfric Stormcloak – leader of the rebellion. Killed the High King using only his Voice.

"Who are you, Imperial?" the first Nord asked her.

"Alicen. Alicen Solus. You?"

"My name is Ralof." Alicen nodded. "How did you get mixed up in this mess?" She thought hard but couldn't remember.

"I don't know," she replied slowly. "I mean, I can't remember." Ralof nodded.

"It's alright. You seemed to have a nasty wound on your head." She couldn't see it, but she sure felt it.

"Oi! Keep it down!" the guard said. They were silent for a moment.

"Hey, horse-thief," Ralof asked.

"My name is Lokir."

"Fine. Lokir. Where are you from?"

"Why?"

"A warrior's last thoughts should be of the home." Lokir considered this for a moment.

"Rorikstead," he finally conceded. "I'm from Rorikstead."

"I'm from Riverwood," Ralof replied. "Alicen?"

"Anvil, in Cyrodiil."

"You've come a long way." She nodded. "Wait. I know where we are now. This is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl from here." They gritted their teeth as the carriage rumbled up past the large gate and slowed as they passed civilians.

"Look at the soldiers, mommy!" a young boy said.

"Get inside, now!" his mother scolded.

"Aw, but I wanted to watch the soldiers." If the others felt the same bitterness, only Ralof voiced it.

"I remember when Imperial towers and guards used to make me feel safe. Now I just feel sick." The carriage rattled to a halt next to a large group of Stormcloak rebels, dressed in their traditional black and gold garb, bound as the prisoners in the cart were. Then the group saw Ulfric.

"All hail Ulfric!" one shouted.

"Killer of Kings!" yelled another.

"I order you to be quiet!" a guard snapped, silencing them for the moment.

"End of the line," Ralof muttered as the group got up, stepping off the carriage.

"Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak of Windhelm," the registration officer read off of a clipboard. Ulfric bowed his head in affirmation before going to join his soldiers. "Lokir of Rorikstead!"

"You can't do this!" the horse-thief yelled. "I'm innocent!" With that, he started running.

"Guards!" a female Imperial officer demanded. In a moment, three guards drew their bows, pulled, and fired. All three arrows hit their mark.

"Oh, gods…" Alicen groaned, her stomach queasy.

"Poor thief," Ralof said, shaking his head. "If that's making you sick, you'd best look away during the execution."

"Ralof of Riverwood!" The Nord stepped forward, then went to stand next to the Stormcloak members – now numbering a dozen or so. "Wait." The registration officer eyed her up and down. "Who are you?"

"Alicen Solus of Anvil."

"Anvil? You mean from Cyrodiil? You're Imperial, then? How'd you get mixed up in all this?" She forced a weak smile.

"I wish I could remember."

"What should we do?" he asked the female guard officer.

"She dies with the rest," she replied. Alicen closed her eyes and nodded, resigning to fate.

"Stormcloak! Step forward!" A rebel did, approaching the chopping block.

"My ancestors are smiling down on me, Imperials," he spat. "Can you say the same?" Alicen watched as the obsidian axe rose, then fell. She felt sick and her legs shook.

Suddenly, there was a noise. Far off, echoing, powerful as if bellowed from huge lungs, however quiet from being so far away.

"Did you… did anyone hear that?" the executioner asked tentatively.

"It's nothing," the female guard officer replied curtly. "You! Imperial! Step forward." Alicen swallowed hard as she approached. Each step brought fragments of her life flashing before her eyes. Much of which she preferred not to remember at all. She stepped up, then fell to her knees, laying her neck in the wooden construct, closing her eyes.

Then the noise again. A roaring unlike that of any creature she'd seen or heard of. Loud… and close.

"What in Oblivion is THAT?" a guard shouted. Her eyes fluttered open as the huge, winged beast landed on a nearby tower, releasing a scream that blew some back and darkened the skies with storm. The executioner staggered, axe landing only inches from her head and she whimpered.

"Get up!" Ralof instructed as he ran past. "Run!" She shakily got to her feet, looking around at the chaos and following Ralof into a tower, where he slammed the door shut. Inside were two other Stormcloak rebels, Ralof, and Ulfric, who was busy yanking the cloth from his mouth.

"What was that?" Ralof asked. "Are the legends true?"

"Legends don't burn down villages," Ulfric replied. He glanced at Alicen, who looked away quickly.

"C'mon, Alicen. We need to get out of here." She nodded, following Ralof up the spiral staircase of the tower. Suddenly, the black dragon's maw slammed through stone and mortar, bathing the area just in front of them in flame. When it had gone, Ralof swore.

"Too rough to go up." He peered through the hole the dragon had made. "Jump down to that ledge. I need to go back to the others." He glanced down at her binds, taking out a dagger and cutting it, before setting it in her hands. "Take this. I'll find you later. Go to Riverwood, find Gerdur."

"Riverwood, Gerdur, okay. Ralof… thank you."

"Thank me by surviving long enough to get out of Helgen." She nodded, turned, and backed up for a running start. She jumped, landing on the roof with a roll, the thatched roof giving way and she fell into a smoky, burning house, landing on some sort of dresser, knocking her to the floor and bruising her ribs. She coughed violently, eyes watering, determining she was in some sort of bedroom as she stood and staggered toward a window, slamming with her weight, almost falling out as the window gave way. She gasped for breath in the open air, releasing some of the smoke the fire was filling the house with, groaning and panting. It was too high up to jump.

She dropped to her knees, navigating to a staircase and darting down it, approaching the front door and slamming her weight against it, once, twice, not budging. She coughed and wheezed, finally taking the doorknob and turning, pressing against the door and falling out onto the cobblestone path. Finally having left the burning house, the city outside looked no better. The dragon flew overhead, dragging huge jets of flame across the city.

"You, over there!" She looked up to see a guard, beckoning her.

"We need to get you out – we're evacuating civilians."

"Okay," she nodded.

"My name's Hadvar."

"Alicen."

"The prisoner?" She nodded and he eyed her, but finally turned, leading her forward through the broken streets. "Stay close to the wall!" he demanded. She followed his instruction, pressing close, and as she did the black dragon landed on it, just above and oblivious to them, blowing fire across the alley, burning houses and people.

"Quickly!" She darted after him, finally reaching an open courtyard where she spotted Ralof.

"Hadvar," Ralof spat.

"Ralof, I have no time for your petty quarrels. I'm trying to evacuate civilians. C'mon, Alicen." Hadvar moved forward to the guard tower and Ralof eyed her.

"Coming?" Ralof asked. She bit her lip, looking between the two men, then ran to Ralof, the two slipping into the tower.

"Damnit," Ralof said, shaking his head. Alicen followed his gaze to see a Stormcloak, battered and dead on the floor. "I'll see you in Sovngarde, my brother. Alicen. Take his armor and equipment, you're going to need it."

"His… armor?" She felt a little uneasy stripping a dead soldier, but approached him and did the best she could to remove his armor and weaponry without disturbing him too much, fastening it to her own body, over the rough prisoner rags she'd been wearing, bending the joints to test it. Cumbersome, but safe. Ralof turned to look at her.

"You look good in Stormcloak garb," he nodded approvingly. She scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"…down this way," a voice sounded.

"Quickly! Hide!" Ralof instructed. She shrank into a shadow, clutching the deceased man's sword awkwardly. Two Imperial soldiers entered and Ralof cried out, attacking the pair. He was skilled in swordplay, easily parrying blows and dealing hits. He killed one as another approached behind him. Her body went into overdrive.

"Ralof!" she yelled, pausing the guard just long enough to drop the sword and sink her six inch dagger into the man's back, stopping his heart immediately. As he dropped, Ralof stared from the other side. "Oh. Uh, this is yours." He shook his head.

"Keep it." She nodded, weighing it in her hand and examining it as they walked. His name was carved into the hilt. Did he make it, or was it a gift? They passed through a kitchen, slaying several guards and stocking up on potions and food before descending into a torture chamber where a rebel drew his sword from the torturer's lifeless body.

"Ralof!" he said grandly.

"Who's this one?" the female Stormcloak asked.

"Alicen. She's with us." The two others nodded, looting the area as Alicen examined a cell. A handful of gold and a book with the familiar "Destruction"-magic symbol emblazoned the front. She pulled out a lockpick, fiddling with the lock until it sprung open, taking the book and pocketing it.

"Into spells?" Ralof asked.

"I, uhm, dabbled." He eyed her apprehensively, but nodded, moving to the exit. She paused, looking down at a book sitting on a barrel. It could've been any book, but she seemed drawn to it. She picked it up, examining the title. "The Book of the Dragonborn". "Dragonborn…?" she muttered.

"Alicen!" Ralof called.

"Coming!" she replied, pocketing the book as well and hurrying up to the trio of Stormcloak soldiers.

"Through here," one said as they entered a small cavern entrance into an open tunnelway. They made their way down and came to a cave full of Frostbite Spiders, which they dispatched quickly. After a few more tunnels, they saw daylight streaming in through an entrance, and the four scrambled out into the sun.

"Sunlight," Alicen grinned.

"Get down!" Ralof whispered. The four ducked as the dragon soared high overhead, oblivious to the refugees and content on having destroyed Helgen successfully.

"You two, go to Windhelm. Tell the Jarl I'm taking temporary leave." The two rebels nodded, setting off.

"Where are you going?" Alicen asked.

"We're going to Riverwood. Then we'll discuss what to do next." Alicen nodded, following him in silence down a long dirt path to the village. It was a quaint, small affair with a few houses and shops, nothing extraordinary. "My uncle runs the lumber processing," he explained as they went to the riverside, where a waterwheel churned away, powering the saw to cut the lumber. A young woman was seated at a bench, getting up when she saw them.

"Ralof!" she said, smiling.

"Gerdur," he grinned, hugging his sister.

"I'm so glad you're home! Who is this?"

"This is Alicen. She saved my life."

"Saved your life? Where have you been?"

"Come, Gerdur, we'll talk back at the house." She nodded and led them back there as Ralof explained the story. They seated by the fire before saying anything more.

"A dragon?" Gerdur asked finally. "You're sure?"

"As sure as anything."

"Are you on Skooma?"

"I can vouch for him," Alicen said, blushing as soon as she realized they were both staring. "I, uh. Saw the dragon."

"What are we going to do?" Gerdur said.

"First and foremost, we need to secure the village. Talk Jarl Balgruuf into giving us some of Whiterun's guards for protection."

"Do you think he'll send them?"

"He has to," Ralof replied, standing and crying out.

"Ralof!" his sister cried, sitting him down. "What is it?"

"It's… nothing," he replied, wincing. She stripped off his armor, finding two puncture wounds the size of Alicen's little finger on his side. "Frostbite Spiders," he spat.

"If this is a Frostbite Spider bite, you aren't going anywhere anytime soon," she scolded.

"I have to get to Whiterun and-"

"I'll do it," Alicen said.

"You'll go to Whiterun? Convince the Jarl we need more troops?" Alicen nodded.

"Of course. I'll do the best I can." Ralof nodded.

"Here, take anything you need," Gerdur said. "And take some of my clothes, get out of that ratty armor." She looked down at the Stormcloak armor and nodded.

"Thank you," Alicen said, going into a back room and pulling on some of Gerdur's clothes.

"Alicen," Ralof said as she was leaving. She turned. "Be careful and come back soon." She felt her cheeks turn red and nodded. Gerdur went about patching up her brother as Alicen took a deep breath, heading out the door towards Whiterun.

**A revival of my time on Fanfiction - and in fact the first real fanfic I've written in a while.**

**So please, by the Nine Divines, leave reviews.**


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